


Ephemeral Tallies, Sempiternal Scars

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders' Era, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 09:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10356969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sirius had no tallies.It wasn’t particularly shocking—he didn’t let himself love easily. But, he must admit, compared to the rest of his friends, his bare wrist looked lonely next to Remus’ one, James’ two, and Peter’s three.Remus’ was black, James’ were both red, and Peter had one scar, one black, and one red.Sirius had none.





	

Soulmate AU: AU in which every time a person falls in love, a red line like a tally mark shows up on their wrist. When their love becomes requited, the tally will become black, and when their loved one dies, the tally becomes a scar.

* * *

Ephemeral Tallies, Sempiternal Scars

_Ephemeral: Fleeting, and lasting for a very short amount of time._

_Sempiternal: everlasting, eternal_

* * *

Sirius had no tallies.

It wasn’t particularly shocking—he didn’t let himself love easily. But, he must admit, compared to the rest of his friends, his bare wrist looked lonely next to Remus’ one, James’ two, and Peter’s three.

Remus’ was black, James’ were both red, and Peter had one scar, one black, and one red.

Sirius had none.

He had never wished for one: near to no one in his family did, and love wasn’t a concept taught in the Black family. He had watched as his mother’s blank wrist, along his father’s scarred one, argued through day and night.

Most of his cousins didn’t have any, except for Andromeda. She got her’s early, and ran away with it.

Sirius ran away without one.

He had watched with an odd fascination as small little tallies began to appear all around him. He noticed every one, and he noticed them all on every girl he’s ever shagged. None of them had ever had a black tally. Sure, there was lots of red, and a few scars, but no black.

Lily had two. Both red, Sirius remembered her talking about it on a bright, sunny Hogsmeade morning. Marlene had three, all red. Dorcas had one, and it had only appeared recently, around the same time as Remus’. It was black. Mary had two, both red, and Emmeline had four, one scar, and the rest red.

By the end of fifth year, Sirius’ wrist was still blank.

He didn’t mind, love wasn’t something he was looking for.

Until he ran away from home, and instead of James greeting him at the Potter’s house, it was Marlene.

“What are you doing here?” the question had sprung out of his mouth before he could stop it. He had expected Mrs. Potter, or Mr. Potter at the very least, but not Marlene McKinnon of all people.

Sure, he knew Marlene, she was friends with James, so they were both often guests at the Potters. But _they_ weren’t really friends.

“What are _you_ doing here?” she asked back, until she caught a good look of him.

Batter and bruised Sirius Black.

She had ushered him into the house, and cleaned up all of his injuries. It was her that sat beside his raging self after his father had left, and it was her that got him to open up.

That night he had fallen asleep on her lap, and when she was gone the next morning, Sirius awoke to a little red tally on his wrist.

He had felt initial terror, that morphed to excitement, and hope, and, dare he say, love—that then turned to fear again.

He had cast a glamour, and watched the red fade away, with a bit of sadness, but also the thrill of having a secret.

He wouldn’t let himself get his hopes up so easily. It was, after all, red. He wore a jumper that day, telling himself it would fade soon enough.

But after a few weeks at the Potter’s, and with Marlene too, the red tally stayed. And it stayed red.

Then there had been this rather exciting party in the Gryffindor common room, when he was a little more than drunk, and she didn’t have a small amount of firewhiskey either. They had kissed, and shagged, and the next morning, Sirius left.

It happened a couple more times, but they never said anything about it, and just kept their lives going. Sirius’ little red tally remained a little red tally.

They had never said anything about their relationship being inclusive, but Sirius didn’t date or shag any girls when he was with Marlene.

Every morning, Sirius would glance at his wrist, forcing himself to feel nonchalant about it, but every time he saw, simply, the glaringly red mark, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment.   

Then, one day, when they had shagged after a rather crazy party, Sirius had stayed the morning with Marlene. Sometime thereafter, he had gone to wash his hands, and as he pulled up his sleeve, a little black tally greeted him. The next time they saw each other, Sirius couldn’t help but glance at Marlene’s wrist.

One single, jet-black line stood out from the tidbits of red. But they didn’t say anything, as that was the mantra of their relationship: _don’t mention it._

Then Mrs. Potter died. James was distraught, and dying even, but the next day, one of his little red tallies had became black. So had Lily’s.

And Sirius gladly welcomed the burn of firewhiskey in his throat, and one bottle turned into two, then into three, then blurred into something uncountable.

He had shagged a girl that night. And it wasn’t Marlene.

But Marlene saw, she saw the Hufflepuff brunette he was kissing, with a frozen look of disbelief, and Sirius had continued on. And Marlene kept on picking up for Sirius, and Sirius never seemed to grow up. It cycled around, and around, and around, until Marlene couldn’t take it anymore.

She ended whatever they had the next day.

That day, Sirius had pulled up his sleeve, preparing himself for the red tally. But it stayed black. And so did Marlene’s.

Sirius started wearing long-sleeved shirts, and, when inevitable, glamoured it away. So did Marlene.

Months had passed since they “broke up” and they both went on with their lives, as though nothing had happened. After all, that _was_ their mantra.

Marlene had gotten another red tally, racking her up to four, but there remained that lonely black line. Sirius never gotten more, and the single black tally glared up at him.

Since then, Lily and James had said their vows, and Sirius was best man, and Marlene maid of honor. They didn’t talk that night.

When the war broke out full time, Sirius grew up. It didn’t happen in a matter of seconds, or minutes, or days even, but he grew up. He deflated that head a little, and toned himself down.

Seeing death did something to you. Sure, he still shagged girls, and still had the drink here and there, but he was different. Older, mature, even.

And this time, he chased Marlene down, because he realised that he could live without her. But it wouldn’t be a life worth living.

Sirius and Marlene were “together” again, and it was different. And they _mentioned_ it.

But one night, as they lay in bed, Sirius had forgotten about his wrist. And Marlene had noticed.

“What’s this?” he remembered her asking, quietly, tracing the line. He had stiffened at first, but then relaxed slightly at her touch.

“It’s my little black tally,” he said teasingly, as he grabbed her wrist, and counted up her four.

“I’ve got one too,” she said, and giggled a little.

“I know you do,” he said, and kissed her on the nose.

And they left it at that.

Marlene asked again, a few days, perhaps weeks—Sirius didn’t know—later.

“Who’s this one for?” She pointed to the little black tally. Sirius didn’t reply. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she continued, a little embarrassed, remembering their mantra, however old and forgotten it was now.

“It’s fine.” Sirius tilted his head and looked at her. “It’s you.”

He gulped a little, and looked away, and looked back at her again. “It’s always been you, you know? You were my first. And you’ll probably be my only,” he confessed, glancing at her four tallies.

She didn’t reply.

Then, she kissed him. But this kiss wasn’t like the other ones they had—hard, alcohol driven, and short—this kiss was different. It was soft, gentle—perhaps even sweet, and for the first time, Sirius really got a taste of Marlene. She tasted like coffee and mint, and her lavender perfume surrounded him. He kissed her back too, at first a little tentatively, then with gut crushing passion. She kissed him again, and he was the first to pull back, a little breathless.

They pulled back, and in that dazed, dreamlike moment, he got a really good look at her. She had freckles splattered all over the bridge of her nose, and her blue eyes had little specks of gold in them. And for the first time, he let himself think,

_Merlin, I love this girl._

“You know, my little black tally is for you, too,” she murmured, and snuggled into his arms, and for the first time it seemed in endless ones, he stayed.

For the first time in years, she was the first to leave in the morning, and Sirius had laid in bed for a while, savouring in her scent lingered on the sheets.

-+-+-+-

He knew exactly when the little black tally had gone.

A thundering pounding had arisen from his door, and he had groggily gotten out of bed—it was 2:00 AM after all, and Marlene wasn’t supposed to be back until morning.

He dragged himself to the door, only to have it banged down by Remus, who grabbed his arm, and a uncomfortable hunch hit his stomach.

“What the hell Moony—” Sirius stopped.

They were no longer at his house.

The scent of ash and flumes clouded his nose, and he coughed several times, trying to keep it out of his lungs.

When he finally cleared his eyes of the smoke, all he could see was red.

And it was surrounding Marlene’s childhood home.

High flickering flames of red-hot fire clambered up the walls of the manor.

But Sirius didn’t see a burning house. He saw Marlene, and her soft smile fading away, drowning out by the fire.

He had ran up, screaming every spell he could think of, even preparing to go in there himself. But the fire merely spread further, and he had barely jumped out of the way before it engulfed just where he had been standing, the ash and smoke leaving their marks on his body. He had tried, again and again, futile hope and desperateness propelling him on and on, until a figure pounded out of nowhere, and shoved Sirius back, knocked him down, farther away from the burning home. From Marlene.

“STOP!” he yelled, tearing himself from Remus. “MARLENE IS IN THERE!”

But Remus pinned him to the ground, face stoic and determined, and Sirius felt a tear slip down his face, washing away a sliver of the ash.

“MARLENE—” his voice broke off into a sob as he just stared at the burning fire.

“I should’ve kissed you goodbye—” he gasped as the house began to crumble. “I should’ve told you how much you mean to me,”

“I should’ve told you how much I loved you,” he sobbed, and Remus still held the tightest of grasps on him.

And then the house collapsed, and Sirius just _stopped_.

He stopped struggling, he stopped yelling—he stopped feeling.

He watched, wordlessly, soundlessly, as the flames died away, leaving behind their destruction of Marlene McKinnon.

A prickle of pain flashed on Sirius’ wrist.

The little black tally was now a little black scar.

-+-+-+-

The little scar had stayed with him, and no new tallies showed up—he didn’t let himself love easily anyways.  

If Sirius ran his fingers over the scar, and if he tried hard enough, he could almost see her in front of him—her blue eyes, gold speckles, staring back at him, her freckles, her blonde hair running through the wind, and if he tried even harder, he could almost, just almost, hear her laughter ringing through the air, an exasperated, “Oh, Sirius,” a ghost of a hand on his cheek, and her lips on his.

But then he shook himself out of it, and he was facing the broken, tarnished wall of a cell, with little tallies scattered across it.

Some were red, some were black, and too many were like scars.

Sirius took one of the slightly breaking links of his chains, and slowly began to carve a small little scarred tally into the wall, joining many others before him. He didn’t know what to expect—perhaps the little scarred tally would leave, or perhaps something, just _something_ would happen.

The little scarred tally stayed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I know Blackinnon is a rather unpopular ship, (believe me, I've been sailing this ship for a while) so please review! It really helps me out, and I hope you liked the Soulmate AU!  
> 


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